


The Little Things

by wonderfulchaos



Category: Servamp (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, fluffy fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-09-17 13:38:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9327176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulchaos/pseuds/wonderfulchaos
Summary: Short (really short) stories written for a fandom I dearly love. The drabbles contained within will focus more on friendship and silliness than anything else.





	1. Seeking Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt for this one was: Mahiru cuddling with Kuro in cat form.

There was no heat. Mahiru had already taken off his gloves and devested of his jacket before it sank in. Then he breathed into his hands for warmth and looked around for the extra heater he kept around for situations like this. He couldn’t remember where he had put it, but maybe his uncle had moved it.

Giving up on his search, he came back to the living room and side-eyed the sleeping cat curled up on the couch. It was a solution, he thought. And surely Kuro wouldn’t mind? They’d be sharing body heat, after all.

Fueled by this reasoning, he took a seat beside the cat and ran his fingers through the soft black fur, soaking up its warmth through the tips of his fingers. The cat woke up, one red eye peeking open, and grumbled out a, “You’re cold.”

“It’s cold in here,” pointed out Mahiru, “shouldn’t we simply share heat?”

“Is that your subtle way of asking me to get naked with you?” the cat deadpanned.

At that, Mahiru gave the fake cat a good flick to the forehead, scoffing, “As if. You’re a cat.”

“Worse,” decided Kuro, “you’re going to skin me for my fur. That’s horrible.”

“Oh, shut it,” and so saying, Mahiru scooped up the black cat and placed him in his lap, stroking the fur along his back and scratching behind his ears. “My hands are freezing, at least let me warm them up a bit.”

Kuro gave a tired purr and curled up, relaxing into the touches. “All right, just don’t wake me up this time.”

Mahiru _mhm_ med an absent agreement and snuggled up closer to his only source of warmth. Until he spotted the blanket at the other end of where they sat, and promptly tugged it over the both of them. With the added warmth, it didn’t take either of them long to fall asleep, content and happy and one of them purring away.


	2. In Sickness As In Health

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahiru gets a call from Lily claiming Misono is unwell and that his very life is in danger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was: Misono was feeling sick and Mahiru, being the mom that he is, went to visit him and keep him company ... and ends up getting sick himself.

Mahiru had received a call a little while ago from a frantic sounding Lily, who had insisted Misono was at death’s door. He had rushed over as soon as he could. Armed with ingredients for his favorite soup (despite the person in question being filthy rich, who had maids and butlers for that sort of thing), juggling a few books he thought Misono would appreciate with his free hand, and ready to take on whatever it was that ailed his friend.

He did not expect it to be a seasonal cold, not after the melodrama Lily had put into the conversation, persuading him to hurry. He didn’t know what he had expected, but to see his friend suffering from the sniffles and a hacking cough brought out his protective instincts, regardless. He gave the ingredients he had brought to Lily, who was by now trying to hide a delighted smile, and placed the books on the bedside table. He took a seat on the edge of the bed when he was done.

First things first, he checked the other boy’s temperature, knocking their foreheads together and closing his eyes to concentrate. “Mm, you don’t seem to have a fever, that’s good.” He eased up, beginning to pull away when he noticed how red Misono’s face had gotten. “Oh, maybe I spoke too soon?” He was about to lean back in, but Misono held up both hands and pushed him back, spluttering, “I’m not dying, thanks! Personal space. Personal! Space!”

Shrugging, Mahiru scooted further down the bed and pointed out the books. “I brought those so you won’t be too bored while you’re stuck here. How long does the doctor say you have to rest?”

Misono mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like a week, but when he spoke it had altered to, “Whenever I’m feeling better, does it matter?”

“Of course it matters,” insisted Mahiru. “You have friends who care about you, ya know?” Then, rolling up his sleeves, he decided, “I’ll go make you that soup I had in mind. Maybe that’ll cheer you up!”

He headed toward the hallway, ignoring Misono’s flustered calls of, “That’s unnecessary, Shirota! Get back here, you bastard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Kuro, I think … I think I’m dying. This feels awful.”
> 
> “Ugh, we’re screening Lily’s calls from now on. I think you even managed to get _me_ sick.”


	3. What Once Was

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lily and the Alicein brothers share an evening together.

Lily was reading a bedtime story to Misono, who was dozing in his lap.

Meanwhile the older brother to his Eve leaned against them, reading from something that didn’t look appropriate for his age. He didn’t comment, though, because Mikuni was well ahead of his fellow classmates in everything but penmanship. He kept up a steady flow to the bedtime story he was telling, only glancing over to their companion every once in a while between pauses for breath.

Misono had long since fallen asleep, so Lily set his book aside and turned to the other boy, calling softly, “Aren’t you tired, young master?”

Rolling his eyes at the address, Mikuni told him, “Worry about Misono. Shouldn’t you be putting him to bed?”

With a sigh, Lily rested his chin atop Misono’s hair, his arms supporting the rest of the boy. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Mikuni, in return, brought his gaze up level with the fireplace they were sitting in front of this chilly evening. Lily followed his line of sight to the mantle, where there was a picture of two little boys and a beaming father behind them. “Don’t worry, Lily, I can put myself to bed.”

Lily clucked his tongue in frustration at the obvious dismissal. “Mikuni,” he tried, but the young man held up a hand. Lily would have continued to push, but there was a sad hunch to his back, defensive, and Lily dropped the subject before it truly got started. How many sleepless night had it been now? What was keeping Mikuni tossing and turning so much? He had his own suspicions, so he let Mikuni keep his secrets, gathering up Misono to carry him off to bed.

When he returned, Mikuni had finally fallen asleep in front of the fire crackling in the hearth. Lily, having prepared a blanket beforehand, tossed it over the sleeping form. But not before placing the boy’s beloved doll in his hands, tucking the both of them in. He placed a kiss to the child’s brow and wished him, “Sweet dreams, young master.”


	4. Love Accepts Doubt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events of that night, All of Love comforts his brother.

It had been days since the mistress of the household had returned with a child that was not her own.

It had been days since anyone had seen the Servamp of Envy. He had returned to the basement upon the eve of that night. Hiding from prying eyes and keeping to himself, the same big brother that All of Love had badgered to live with him in the first place.

With determined steps, Love descended the stairs and knocked politely at the door. “Say, would you like to have some tea together? The garden is lovely this time of -” Something was muttered on the other side of the door, halting his words, and he used it as an excused to let himself in. “What was that, big brother?”

Through a curtain of long, dark hair, Doubt Doubt glared before lowering his gaze to the floor. “Go away.”

“You’re beating yourself up about what happened, hm?” Love stepped further into the room, shutting the door. The light retreated with the action, plunging them into darkness. Only the brightness of furious red eyes gave him an idea as to where his brother was seated. “Well, I’m here to tell you: it wasn’t. You may have to obey once a contract is made, but …” Snapping his fingers, he conjured up an illusion of fire, holding the glowing orb in his palm. It highlighted the room, brought his brother’s pale face into sharp relief. “You don’t have to like what you do.”

“I could have -” started Doubt Doubt.

“It’s done,” Love told him, “it’s over. You can’t change the past, can you? But you know what you can change?”

His brother looked up, a sense of pleading to his expression. “What?”

“Make sure these boys grow up safely. Make sure they grow up knowing they are -”

“Loved?” bit out Doubt. “That’s not for me to decide.”

Love shook his finger, _tsk tsk_ ing. “You can change so much, why -”

“Because it’s not my place!” challenged Doubt. “It’s not my place to question. To change.”

Disappointed, Love moved closer, crouching down to his brother’s side. “Are you sure?” When Doubt nodded, Love sighed and enveloped him in a hug. “You’ve struggled alone for so long, haven’t you?” He had decided; he would help as best he could. “I invited you here, big brother, because you don’t have to be alone anymore.”

Tentatively, Doubt returned the hug. Giving in, if only for a moment.


	5. Music

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are many things that Mahiru has yet to discover about Kuro, but he enjoys learning about those little things, slotting each puzzle piece into place.

Lately Mahiru had been more mindful of the little things that Kuro did. It was inevitable, perhaps, given that they had been living together for months now. It started out of the blue, as Kuro tapped out something like a beat against the console he was playing on and Mahiru caught his foot doing the same. He realized soon after it was the tempo for that particular game’s opening song and it sparked his curiosity.

He paid more attention and noticed it didn’t stop there. When Kuro thought no one was listening, he would hum strange lyrics under his breath, words of a foreign language that Mahiru didn’t know. It was soothing, though, a gentle melody; Mahiru would find his eyes closing and his head swaying in happy accompaniment. Then Kuro would ask if he had an ear infection and kill the moment, and Mahiru would conjure up his broom just to show him how coordinated he was.

Sometimes Kuro would stare off into space and his fingers would move as if playing a phantom instrument, a whimsical smile upturning the edges of his lips. It was good to see such a smile, a more fleeting and short-lived one than his others - but much more genuine in nature. It was a smile that prompted him to ask over dinner one night, “Did you play music before?” Before what, he wasn’t sure. Before forming a contract with him, that was probably what he meant to say, but Kuro stiffened in his seat, the grip on his chopsticks causing a tiny crack to ring warning bells in the air.

“What does it matter?” Kuro asked him, head bowed and his eyes covered by his bangs. “I don’t anymore.” To him, the conversation seemed to be over.

Mahiru set his chopsticks aside and folded his hands in front of his plate, simply staring. They hadn’t come this far for Kuro to retreat back into his thoughts, building a glass wall again. He wasn’t sure he could handle another venture into someone else’s mind. It was too much of hassle when he could straightforwardly ask, “What’s wrong?”

That earned a glare, but at least it was progress. “I can’t deal with you. Do we have to talk about this while we eat?”

“Oh? You had a better time in mind?”

Kuro made a face at that, telling him, “It’s something I’d rather not talk about at all. Can we drop it already?”

For a moment, Mahiru considered it. It was curiosity that had prompted him to ask in the first place, but now - now he was invested. “I don’t think we can. If it’s something that bothers you, for me … that’s reason enough to want to know more. I want to be someone you can talk to, Kuro. We’re friends.”

 _Friends._ He liked that word a lot, and he had made so many more since becoming a part of Kuro’s world. It wasn’t all bad, and the good parts were because of Kuro. He reached over and took his friend’s hand, giving it a little squeeze. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

Sighing, Kuro turned his head away and began to slouch in his seat. He didn’t let their hands fall apart, though. “You’re such a pain.” He squeezed back, warm and solid, a connection that would last. “I guess I did play … before. It was more than just a hobby to me,” Kuro informed him, stilted and wavering, but trudging on ahead like his past self never would have in this situation, “and I loved every minute I spent learning and practicing. It was … something even someone like I could do.”

“Did you ever perform on stage?” Mahiru wondered.

“Yeah.” That was as far as Kuro seemed willing to talk about it. So Mahiru placed his other hand on top of their entwined fingers and told him, “Thanks for telling me,” because it was a start and they would have many more days to talk and share. It didn’t end there.

Kuro shrugged and mumbled, “Whatever,” unfolding their hands before asking, “Can we eat now?” They still had plenty of meals to share, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prompt for this one was obviously "music". 
> 
> atherinashura0305 on tumblr brought up proto!Kuro, who seemed like a big music lover (from what can be interpreted from the artwork), and this was my take on it =)


	6. We Were Young Once

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do onto others as you would have them do onto you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Tetsu meets Yumikage at fancypants magic school and they hit it off.

Tetsu had been put into a very special school meant to protect him at a very young age. He was tall for that age and didn’t fit in well with the other kids, so he naturally gravitated towards the older boys his age. Girls made him shy, and they were kind of noisy, but with the older boys he felt like he had a place to belong at this place away from home.

He didn’t like that part either - being away from home for so long. It was a different sort of noise here at school, too much all at once to adjust to and he wasn’t sure he ever would. There were no familiar faces and he had to meet new ones to replace the old, to give him a stability that felt so far out of reach. His mother and father told him to keep his chin up while he was here, to be proud of who he was, but Tetsu wasn’t sure what that meant. All he knew was that he missed home and the sound of customers coming and going. He missed being with his friends who played soccer with him. And most of all, he missed having a safety net to fall back on, knowing someone or something would be there for him.

Eventually, he did make a friend. Someone who was like an older brother to him. At first, the older boy who called himself Yumikage spoke with fancy big words that Tetsu didn’t really understand, but that as well eventually began to change. It must have gotten out about his age and suddenly Yumi was doting on him, grudgingly helping him, and it felt a lot like having an extra mom at school.

They ate together at lunch time and played together whenever they could. Though sometimes Yumi got called away and he’d have strange bruises and bites when he came back. He didn’t ask, because he didn’t know what words to use. Still, he would always walk up to Yumi on those days and hug him and tell him how much he’d been missed; and the hand running through his hair before giving him a gentle pat on the head was enough to let Tetsu know his feelings were returned and the gestured was appreciated. Little moments of peace where nothing could hurt them, lost in a bubble that could only hold two.

That bubble burst one day as someone called out, “Oi, Yumiko! Your hair’s just gorgeous today. Did you go to the beauty parlor before school?”

The person that had called out like that was a crass, brazen young man that led a group within the school that few chose to cross. Something about power of hierarchy, whatever that meant, and the fact that anyone who did cross them got hurt. A lot. Tetsu knew pain wasn’t something most people sought out, and he didn’t particularly like it either, but this person was hurting his friend. He could see the way it made Yumi tense up, like an angry cat about to hiss, eyes going glossy with water. A mirror in an onsen that was too hot to bear.

“Who you callin’ Yumiko, you stupid -”

Tetsu stepped up and grabbed Yumi’s hand, tilting his head up to say, “You look nice today, Yumi. I like your hair.”

Immediately, Yumi closed his mouth and breathed out through his nose, glaring at the culprit that had tried to provoke him through eyes less glossy than before. “Yeah, whatever. This is a waste of time. I’ll see you later, Tetsu.” He shook off the hand on his and stormed off.

Instead of following, Tetsu turned to the person responsible for upsetting his friend, his tiny hands clenching into fists at his sides. “You hurt my friend,” he told them flatly. “Have you ever heard,” a shadow pooled in his hand as he chanted a nursery rhyme in his head, “treat a person the way you want to be treated?” He said each word slow and deliberate, so he didn’t stumble or mess up. He wanted to be understood and heard.

Once the shadow formed into a ball, he threw it at the bully and his friends and darkness enveloped the area. Screams started, other kids fled the scene, and within minutes there were teachers on the scene, pulling a furious Tetsu away from the sight of the other kids on their knees on the ground. It didn’t seem like enough - what would be enough to hurt them like they thought they could hurt Yumi?

He was about to unleash another wave, eyes darkened and clouded with a need to express what he felt to these people who just didn’t understand, but then there were hands on his shoulders, shaking him, and it wasn’t a teacher this time. It was Yumi. Warm, calloused hands reaching up to grasp his cheeks and yank his face upwards, telling him, “Calm down, Tetsu. Calm down! Everything’s ok. I’m ok. Can you hear my voice?”

In a tiny, barely there response, he nodded, beginning to slowly come back down from the rush the power had given him. Strange, foreign and flowing darkness in his veins. That was what it felt like, and he had liked it. He shuddered and leaned into Yumi, asking shakily, “What did I do?”

“You did something bad,” Yumi told him, not excusing him for what he did. “But it’s all right now, everything’s ok now. We’re going to get through this together, understood?”

Tetsu held on tighter and realized belatedly that the reason Yumi’s eyes had been so glossy earlier was probably because of tears, like the ones falling from his eyes now. Like he had watched fall from frightened children at his own hands. “I did bad,” he gasped, tears choking out his words and making them fall flat like everything always did. “I didn’t … I didn’t mean to …”

“You messed up,” Yumi agreed, “and that’s ok. I was about to screw up, too, but you were there for me. Now let me be there for you.”

It didn’t last long, their friendship, but the solid foundation it started with was more than enough to get them where they were today.


	7. Serendipity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unfortunate event leads to a fortunate outcome. (Or, that one time Lily tried to put out a fire with his tailcoat.)

Misono wasn’t used to waking up to discover Lily gone. He hadn’t been greeted with utter stillness in a long, long time. Even before their contract, Lily had been the first to find him after a nightmare. As if he had a sixth sense for when a child was ill at ease. So to find his Servamp missing put him instantly on guard.

Rubbing at his eyes, he pushed his covers back and went to the window. A quick perusal of the outside showed no signs of an intruder that could have made Lily leave his Eve’s side. Frowning now, he headed for the door and glanced out every window that he passed in the hall. It wouldn’t be too hard to spot a crown of golden blond this late at night, he thought, and yet he couldn’t find his wayward vampire.

Though eventually he did spot something out of place, out in the back gardens. A flicker of light. A plume of gently rising smoke. Scrunching up his nose and figuring it was one of the many people that worked for the manor, Misono almost didn’t investigate. The thing that gave him pause was pure instinct, and he often didn’t give in to such unsure matters. This time, however, he was willing to place a bit of faith in the bond he had with Lily. For Lily’s sake. 

He wanted to know where his Servamp had gone off to without telling him.

Each footfall towards the back door sounded louder and louder to his ears, heavy and full of doubt. He didn’t know who was out there. If he was mistaken, what was he going to say then? 

While musing over that dilemma, he arrived before reaching a decision, and he turned the corner to catch sight of someone pulling a cigarette away from parted lips, smoke tumbling out to follow behind.

Misono, in disbelief, stumbled back into a bush and gave his presence away. The person in question gave a startled jolt and the cigarette was quickly hidden behind a guilty silhouette. “Misono! What are you doing up? It’s late. You should be sleeping now, what -”

“Lily.” Admittedly, he was glad to find him, but this was - when had this become a thing? Had it always been a thing? “I didn’t know you smoked,” he said, and he was dismayed at how accusing it came out. He couldn’t help it that a feeling of betrayal had nestled in his chest, but he could help the way he had phrased that. Except, he was starting to doubt that he knew anything about the people closest to him. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, his arms criss-crossing his chest defensively. “Did you think you could get away with this stupidity?”

“Smoking?” Lily asked, innocent as could be. As if he didn’t reek of tobacco. “I have no clue what you mean, Misono. See?” He brought his hands out from behind his back and they were empty.

Empty, huh. Had he really just imagined it?

“You must have been sleep walking,” suggested Lily.

For a moment, Misono considered it. Perhaps he would have even believed it. Then, that moment ended spectacularly as flames engulfed the roses behind Lily’s back. Turning them black, shriveled and dry, crumbling them to dust before his very eyes. If that wasn’t proof of foul play, Misono didn’t know what was - except now they had a pretty huge problem and he was positive panicking and trying to put out the fire with one’s jacket was perhaps the stupidest thing he had ever seen.

“Lily!” he called, grabbing at the man’s shirt and tugging him back away from the source of the problem. “Get back here, you idiot! What if -” He spotted the burns peppering Lily’s arms already and cursed. Even if they were slowly healing, bit by bit, that still had to hurt. “Ugh, ridiculous. You could have told me you smoked! Jeez, what was I going to do? Run away?” At the devastated look that provoked, Misono hesitated to continue, but he went on. He had to remind Lily: “We have a contract, and I am _not_ letting you go so easily. Lily, go get help. I’ll do something about this,” he waved in the direction of the spreading fire, “in the meantime.”

And by that, he meant using his head and taking the scraps of Lily’s burnt jacket to make something that could hold water. They had a fountain not more than four steps away. It made sense to try to pour water on a burning fire. Plus, with Lily’s speed, help should arrive before too long.

“Young master!” Speak, and they come. Seriously, why would Lily forget such a thing? He moved out of Dodo’s way, wiping sweat from his brow with a soot covered hand.

There was a slight wheezing coming from Misono's chest, all the smoke getting to him at last, but he sought out Lily and asked him, “Are you all right?” The burns were all gone it seemed, but the distress from earlier hadn’t subsided; and Lily looked about ready to cry. “What?” he demanded.

“Misono!” Lily did, in fact, cry as he engulfed him in a hug. “I’m so sorry, this is my fault. Ahhh, I knew this would happen. You shouldn’t be around smoke at all!”

Reaching up on tiptoe, Misono poked the man in the forehead, leaving a black mark there. He held back a childish urge to giggle at the shape; it nearly resembled a heart. And with the world-weariness of someone who had seen far too much in too short a time, he informed Lily, “Look here, you bastard, if you ever withhold information from me again, I am going to -” Lily’s eyes went comically wide, “I’m going to make you quit smoking. Really, where did you pick up that annoying habit?”

“I … I -” Lily struggled to find the words, but Misono held up a hand to stop him there, shaking his head.

“I’ll listen to the story another time. For now, I’m glad you’re all right.” He rubbed at his nose, cheeks warm from saying something so cheesy, and turned his head to the side. “I’m going back to bed. But just so we’re clear! No more late night smoking. Unless you tell me you’re leaving.” Misono was through with people leaving him because they thought it was for the best. He was putting his foot down this time.

“You were worried?” teased Lily. “That’s so sweet!”

Though when Lily reminded him a little too much of the person who had left him behind, he often wondered why he bothered. Then he looked up, caught sight of that soft smile that always put him at ease since childhood, and remembered that this person was someone who wouldn’t leave him, even if he could.


	8. Domestic Cat 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mahiru has a bad habit of picking up strays, but Kuro really wishes he’d take this one back.

There were yellow eyes staring at Kuro with the patience of a saint. A cute little head tilted to the side, a tiny meow given. Kuro, quite honestly, despised it. If he had been in cat form, he would have hissed, but since he was doing as Mahiru asked and sitting at the table (and why was the _actual_ cat allowed to sit in the seat next to his?), he figured it was best to keep up appearances. It would have been a pain otherwise.

“Here you go, Kuro #2!” The thing even had the gall to earn a similar name. Black and fluffy and much more cat in nature. Hence it enjoyed the stupid cat food Mahiru had picked up ages ago and tried to feed to him. _It serves it right_ , he thought grumpily, eyeing his own plate heaped with vegetables and other nutrients. Well, it was still better than stupid cat food. Even if it wasn’t instant ramen.

Mahiru didn’t bother asking him to help with the after dinner clean up and was instead happily talking to the cat that couldn’t talk back. Going on and on about, “You’re going to love it here, Kuro. Sure, Kuro #1 doesn’t do much, but you keep a close watch on him for me. Okay? Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble while I’m at school." 

A warm feeling uncoiled in chest at that, because it meant more than words could describe to hear that coming from Mahiru. That display of caring. He still didn’t know how to deal with someone worrying about him like that, to just accept him so easily into his life, but he was starting to realize that he didn’t want it taken away from him.

Drops of water rained on the cat and it gave a miserable meow. Mahiru stopped what he was doing immediately and looked for a dry cloth; but when he saw none within reach, he went off to find one. That left Kuro alone with the new addition to their household, and he slowly, menacingly, changed shape to that of a lion. Looming over the cat that would never be what he was to Mahiru, not in a thousand years. He growled and placed a warning paw on the black furball’s head, his tail swishing back and forth. "Get lost,” he told it.

The cat tilted its cute head again and then pounced on the swishing tail, eyes bright with playful intent. The two of them kept up a game of cat and mouse until Mahiru came back and caught them in the act, asking in a bemused tone, “Are you two having fun?” The cat abandoned the tail in favor of meowing at Mahiru, a bid for attention as it rubbed up against his legs. “I’m glad you two are getting along.”

Bending down with towel in hand, Mahiru rubbed the cat’s fur dry and then turned his attention back to the large lion that had begun to laze about on his floor. “Why are you like that, anyway? Were you trying to scare her?”

Kuro rolled his eyes heavenward. “Why would I do that, when I could just eat her?”

“Hey, don’t joke about that,” reprimanded Mahiru, standing with the cat now in his arms. “She’s kind of like our kid! Make sure you treat her with respect.” Nodding at his own words, he marched to the couch and deposited the cat there, scratching behind her ears. “You stay here with your ‘dad’,” he told the cat.

Switching back to human form, Kuro curled up next to the cat on the couch. _A kid, huh?_ he thought, staring back into those twin yellow eyes. _Yeah, I guess that wouldn’t be so bad._


	9. To Be Satisfied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A field of weeds, or a field of gold? Belkia isn’t sure what awaits him, certainly, but meeting a stranger with money to spare might not be such a bad thing at all.

There weren’t many who came to see a good show be put on these days. Not after the internet. Not when they could so easily be entertained with videos and special effects. Foolish children who thought they were seeing something magical, when it was nothing of the sort. What was truly magical was seeing something different, something so at odds with this reality it wouldn’t be possible to look away.

Belkia grew up on whimsical tales spoken from gossiping lips. Some true, some not. Some fairy tales, other horror stories. It still, to this day, fascinated him to think of creatures in the night. Of things that could take him away from this listless existence where he put on some half-assed show that no one wanted to see anyway.

Often times he found that he could relate to the the married woman in the story of _When Wheat Met Woe_ , for he was not satisfied with his lot in life. He wanted more. He wanted to be remembered. And if they, too, should put on his gravestone, _He wanted something else_ , they would not be incorrect.

Then one day, he met a man. A man draped in red. He offered him silver when Belkia wanted gold, but he accepted the money and wished him good day. It wasn’t every day he had someone stop and enjoy the parlor tricks he put on display. Though the man kept coming back after that, again and again. With increasing money over time, as if he could buy what was for sale.

Eventually, when his lack of understanding reached a peak, he asked, “What is this for? What do you want?”

The man met his eyes and Belkia noticed for the first time that they were an inhuman red. Dark hair offset against bloody crimson, a winsome smile hiding the audacity of a predator. “Why, I thought it should be obvious.” The strange man gave a snicker and offered a flower in place of money that evening. A flower just as red as him. “If you ever run in to any trouble, be sure to call for help sometime.”

It was an ominous thing to say, like a fortuneteller of old. It was enticing, to say the least. Before he could ask anything else, the man left. The sound of wooden sandals click-clacking away.

That night, there was an accident. A car swerved and hit him straight on as he was walking home, counting his earnings. He remembered looking up at the moon at the time, as blood dripped down his face. With flecks of red in his vision, the moon appeared to him a spider’s web of cracks and nicks, its light shattering before his eyes and making him wince. He wasn’t sure if what he said at the time was a proper cry for help, but his plea had been heard nonetheless and his help arrived. As bloody and shattered as the blood, promising eternity and endless stories with a grin so lonely that Belkia thought his heart would break right there.

There was a taste of copper in his mouth before his vision faded into a beckoning black, the red leaving his sight. When he next opened his eyes, red would be all he ever saw.


	10. An Angel of a Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Licht takes Mahiru under his proverbial wing when it comes to 'acting cool' and gives the kid some pointers.

“No, no, no.”

Mahiru stopped what he was doing, his arm raised the highest it could go and one leg up in the air. He felt very much like a flamingo, but he didn’t want to disappoint his self-proclaimed mentor in the art of cool and held the posture. “Yeah? Am I doing something wrong?”

In response, that same self-proclaimed mentor reached for his arm and pried each finger out the fist he had made, explaining, “An angel does not threaten while in this pose.”

Biting back a laugh, Mahiru asked, “Really? But it’s perfectly fine out of this pose?”

Licht looked him in the eyes and told him, “Exactly.”

Since it was best not to poke that can of worms unless he was ready for the lecture that would follow, Mahiru moved on by putting his foot back down on the ground and letting his arm drop finally. He shook out the pins and needles from his hand as he wondered, “How do you make that sort of thing look so cool?”

To demonstrate, Licht did the same pose he had just asked Mahiru to accomplish, but with much more pizzazz. It could have been his imagination, but he thought he saw sparkles for a moment there, as if light had descended from up above to highlight the ‘angel’ in question. That had to take true skill, to make sparkles out of nothing. Though he wondered if it was some sort of bonus aspect to Licht’s Lead. It wouldn’t be the first time supernatural reasons were the cause.

In answer to what Mahiru had asked of him, though, Licht explained, “It’s all in the form. You’re thinking too much when you do it. The trick is to make it as natural as breathing.”

“Right,” agreed Mahiru, not understanding a word. “Sounds simple.” And if it sounded simple, he was determined to make it happen. “Let’s keep going.”

“That’s the spirit.” Licht congratulated him. “While you do that, I’m going to play with Neko-san. Is he hiding this time?”

“Er, yeah. He heard you were coming over.”

“Keep practicing,” instructed Licht, and then he wandered off in pursuit of the cat that had begun to dread when the 'angel’ came over. There was only so much petting one cat could take before it decided enough was enough.


	11. Noble Event

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ophelia knows her place, but she still had her doubts along the way.

Her gown brushed the floor of the ballroom, but not for long as she was twirled this way and that, meant to be entertaining the guests and yet deriving no pleasure from it. She was bored, tired, and her feet ached with the want to be off them and back in her comfy bed upstairs. She did not know how the servants could stand to be on them all day, working non-stop, when oftentimes she found no more than idle hours to whittle away in the forest. She could already imagine being surrounded by the scent of pine, turning her head and grass tickling her nose before her eyes fluttered open and she would be looking right into the red eyes of her faithful companion. Someone who had been candidly studying her, always awed at the sight of her.

She would straighten out her skirts and give the man beside her a pat on the cheek, wondering what he looked so dazed about when there were apples to be picking and clovers to make into crowns. She would put him to work and she would mender on her own way; no obligations, no ‘princess perfect’ persona to uphold.

“Ophelia,” her Romeo would call, “do we really need this many clovers?”

“Of course!” Ophelia would tell him, scandalized. “Why, how else are we going to make a village prosper when so few are made to lead?”

She knew her place, though. Just as the servants knew theirs. She was born to dazzle and entertain. A piece in the cogs of the castle, a piece that was not at all made to lead, but rather to follow. To follow a man she did not love, to give her life for her people that depended on her. Those same people that counted on her to change things. 

Her place was on the ballroom floor, and her Romeo was never meant to see the light of the chandelier above. Hidden instead within the shadows, a phantom of the night while she stood in the sun. It didn’t matter if she wanted to give him one dance. Her wants were not to be taken into account when there was a country behind her that trusted her to make the correct decisions. For them, and for the sake of her Romeo as well. To give him a place to stay.

Waltzing with people who would kiss her hand and tell her what a beauty she was, that didn’t bring her anything but a hardened smile and a wish in her heart to change things. 'If onlys,’ would not get her anywhere. She had to be the change she wanted to see. She had to bring things about with her own two hands. And if she had to use what she was born with to accomplish that, it was for the best to make use of it. For what other reason, she would ask herself, was she gifted with a blessed life when others were suffering?

When she had a moment to catch her breath, when she was hidden from the light spilling out amongst the glittering dresses and flattering suits of others, Ophelia felt at once both free and at peace to find her Romeo at her side. He handed over a drink that she had not even begun to ask for, worriedly hovering as he asked, “Are you all right? You look a little light on your feet, milady.”

“Isn’t that the point?” she asked him in return, and then she took a sip of the water from the cup in her hands, her throat parched and now relieved. “Yes, thank you, you are truly the best of friends that I will ever know. Look at them out there, with their gold and tassels. I fit in as well as a wallflower that creeps up the vines. Sticking out like a sore thumb and yet baffling their senses. Ah, what I wouldn’t give -”

“Now, now, milady,” interrupted her Romeo, “you told me to never let you speak like that. Go out there, make the most of it. I will wait for you.” His eyes told her of forever, an all too culpable promise. An easy way out, should she ever choose to take it.

Turning away, Ophelia handed her water back and offered him a weak smile that did not match the one she had been envisioning of giving him. “No, you need not wait. I will be fine on my own.” With her own two feet, and as worn as they felt, she walked back out to the ballroom floor and offered her hand to yet another noble. Another dance, another fleeting moment of entertainment that did nothing to appease the hole that slowly began to grow within her heart.

Each choice had a sacrifice, and she didn’t want to believe that what she was giving up was the wrong choice. It still hurt and gnawed away at her resolve, but she had to stay true. For her sake, as well as her Romeo’s.


End file.
